


things that go bump in the night

by MaddieContrary



Category: Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M, Not Beta Read, Werewolf Nigel, Yes the title is uninspired don't at me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29021964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaddieContrary/pseuds/MaddieContrary
Summary: When Will had gone out searching for things that go bump in the night, he didn’t think he’d stumble upon said thing.Well, said creature, to be precise.
Relationships: Will Graham/Nigel (Charlie Countryman)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 58
Collections: ACOC Server Compilation





	things that go bump in the night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [laststop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laststop/gifts).



> This is for mari, who asked for DogsDogs and let me go wild with it <3  
> This is also for me, as I'm still harboring a not-so-secret love for werewolf!Nigel, apparently.  
> Written for the ACOC Raffle thing which was back in, uh, September.
> 
> This takes place years before the show/canon starts. Might continue later if inspiration strikes <3

When Will had gone out searching for things that go bump in the night, he didn’t think he’d stumble upon said thing.

Well, said creature, to be precise.

He was sure he was imagining the creature before him, up until the point the wolf — for it was undeniably a wolf — scratched at him, growling at him to keep away. 

Will blinked. The scratch barely landed on him, but he felt it all the same.

Okay. So, not his imagination then. 

“Shh,” Will soothed the wolf, raising both palms in the air after he’d set aside his shotgun on the ground. "Easy, boy."

The wolf was seated on the ground, several paces away from Will’s porch when Will stumbled outside his house to search for the whines he'd heard. It growled at him menacingly when it saw the shotgun in Will’s hand earlier. Hence his need to disarm.

The wolf watched him warily now, its golden eyes illuminated eerily by the moonlight. It was dark outside save for the break in the clouds, and the humid air was stiff with the tension while the two of them stared at each other. It was summertime, and the heat they were experiencing was only tempered by the light breeze in the nighttime. The grass prickling beneath his feet told him that this was real, and Will watched as the breeze rustled the fine hair on the wolf’s form. There was little sound save for Will’s heartbeat and the rustling in the air, though the silence was broken by a small, intermittent rumbling. 

It took him a moment to realize that the rumbling sound was coming from the wolf. It made the hair at the back of Will’s neck prickle with awareness. 

Will took a few steps backward, palms still stretched out before him. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, even knowing that the wolf wouldn’t understand him. “I just want to make sure you’re not hurt. I heard you whining.”

One of his dogs — Buster — took a step forward, though Will took care to signal with a sound for Buster to stay back. Buster was the only one from his pack who had managed to slip through the door when Will opened it earlier, while the rest of the pack was whining and pawing insistently against Will’s door, trapped on the other side. 

Buster, uncaring for Will’s warning, slowly crept forward, as if telegraphing his movement to the feral-looking creature. 

Will stood transfixed as Buster reached the wolf, his nose twitching to sniff out the scent he’d detected. Amazingly, the wolf stayed still and allowed Buster to approach. Though the wolf had been wary with Will, it seemed to accept Buster’s sniffing, merely watching as the dog circled him. Buster yipped when he finally found what he was looking for, barking to Will as if to show him his discovery.

Will’s eyes flicked to meet the wolf’s. In yet another amazing turn of events, the wolf blinked and huffed before it unfolded its legs to reveal its belly. Buster’s barks intensified, the dog practically vibrating with concern when he saw the long gash across the wolf’s belly.

Will groaned in sympathy when he saw the wound, though he took care to remain where he was. No telling what the wolf would do if he approached it, so he kept his distance and squinted to try and make out whether the injury was serious. On a cursory glance, the wound was bleeding sluggishly, so that was less worrying. At least there won't be any danger of bleeding to death. The wound wasn’t too deep, at least from what he could make out from the distance and relative darkness. 

He didn’t expect Buster to lick at the wolf’s paw, whining in distress. He would laugh at the display if it wasn’t such an odd sight. Odder still that the wolf was letting itself be subjected to such indignities. Will was pretty sure no dog had tried to placate him before this. Not something he’d expected to see in the thirty years he’d lived.

“Uh…” Will cleared his throat, trying to catch the wolf’s attention. God, this was weird. What was he even doing? He should be running for his life instead of trying to communicate with a wolf. “You… okay, clearly you’re injured but… fuck, how do I know if you need anything?” He sighed, watching the way Buster danced around the wolf.

There was a moment when it seemed as if the wolf understood, his face flicking to Will’s when it huffed. In amusement? In anger? In agreement? Who the fuck knows? 

“Okay, uh can you maybe wait here while I call for help?” Will asked, not expecting an answer.

Sure enough, the wolf merely stared at him, looking unimpressed by the question. Buster yipped in answer, agreeing on its behalf. 

Will chuckled. “Okay, Buster. So you’re guarding him, huh?” He smiled again, fondness creeping into him at the sight of Buster, always trying to bite off more than he can chew. “Right, you stay here by his side while I make the call, okay?”

Buster yipped again, sitting on the ground without being told. The wolf huffed again, its tail swishing gently against Buster in a playful swat.

Will took that as a yes, chuckling as he slowly made his way back inside, the wolf watching every step. 

The phone call was as weird as he thought it would be. The woman who answered clearly thought he was out of his mind.

“Sir, I assure you, there have been no wolves around this area for, oh, I don’t know, several decades. Are you sure you’re sober right now?”

 _Then why call this place Wolf Trap?_ Will’s brain supplied unhelpfully.

“Yes, I’m sober!” he answered instead. “Look, it almost scratched me, and my dog is outside guarding it right now so I’d appreciate it if you could send someone—” 

“I’m sorry, your _dog_ is guarding a wolf?”

“Okay I know how weird that sounds, but—”

“Sir, can I just ask you a few questions to ascertain that you’re sober and in your right mind right now?”

Will sighed, aggravated. “You know what, never mind, I’ll just… I’ll call a vet, thank you.” He hung up without waiting for an answer. “Does anyone know a vet?” he asked no one in particular, though his pack was quick to answer in short barks. “Thanks, guys.”

Will was about to make another call — trying to think of who would be willing to answer at this time of the night; _Alana maybe?_ — when he heard the sounds of Buster’s whine and frantic yips. Panic made him rush through the door, the rest of his dogs following him to answer Buster’s distress call. By the time Will made it back out onto his porch, however, Buster was alone. 

Buster was unharmed, at least, the dog running to greet his pack as if nothing had happened. They were overjoyed to be let out at this kind of time, and Will had a time trying to corral everyone back inside, huffing when it was finally done. 

He locked the door before he stepped to one of the windows, peering through the night to ascertain if the wolf was still outside. With how dark it was right now, it was hard to tell, but the wolf had probably made a run for it despite its injury. Either that or he _was_ hallucinating. 

Sighing, Will locked his shotgun and tried to settle back into sleep, telling himself that his encounter was nothing but a strange dream. 

The next few nights brought no strange encounters, though Will couldn’t say the same for his nightmares. But the nightmares were something he was equipped to deal with, sort of, while a wolf was not. So he was thankful that there were no similar sightings elsewhere in the last few days. Maybe the wolf had escaped from somewhere and gotten lost; maybe it was now miles away. Will hoped it's not dying from its wound.

Will settled back into his routine once life returned to normalcy, teaching classes at Quantico and trying to ignore the splitting headaches that resulted from his frequent nightmares. If he drank a tumbler of whiskey every night, there was no one to judge him apart from his dogs.

His apathetic routine was broken yet again on one evening, however. 

By his count, it had been three weeks since he’d last dreamed up that wolf encounter, the occurrence blurring in his mind the longer the time passed until it became a liminal memory, in between something that could’ve really happened or something that his imagination may have conjured up. It could go either way, depending on how his brain behaved that day.

Right now, however, his brain was fully occupied when he sensed rather than heard a strange presence nearby while he was bathing the dogs on his porch that evening. Harley, who was enjoying her bath, perked up as well, and that was when he knew that his instincts were probably on point.

Frowning, Will raised to a stand and made his way to the stairs leading down the driveway. He relaxed fractionally when he realized that the strange presence belonged to a man — not exactly a welcomed sight, but at least it wasn’t a wolf this time.

“Can I help you?” Will frowned, clocking in the stranger’s appearance. 

The man was dressed casually in a loose shirt and jeans. He was smiling at Will, looking supremely relaxed for a stranger who just strolled up to Will’s house in the middle of nowhere. Will’s quick assessment of him told him several things, mainly that this man was older than him by several years (or a decade maybe); that his relaxed appearance and confidence showed him that he knew his worth and was flaunting it; and that he was trying to present himself as a harmless man.

A harmless man would not come to Will’s doorstep at this time of the night. Though there was no weapon in sight, and oddly enough no car parked outside, that didn’t mean anything. He could be concealing a small weapon in his jeans, or maybe he would be the type of person who would use brute force to incapacitate his enemy. He certainly seemed like the type. Will could barely make out some sort of tattoo on the man's neck, partially hidden by the sweep of his hair. 

“Are you lost?” Will asked, annoyed when the man didn't answer. It seemed less and less that this guy was lost, and his tone insinuated as much.

The dogs, who had been lounging around the porch, took notice of Will’s tone, most of them padding over to where Will stood to warn the stranger off. Ever his loyal pack, Will thought fondly. 

Buster’s ears perked up as he sniffed the air, however, and before Will could stop him, Buster had run towards the man, barking excitedly. 

The man finally barked out a laugh, the sound startling in its volume and authenticity. “Well, hello again,” he crooned, kneeling to offer his hand to Buster. 

Buster sniffed it and yipped again, jumping around the man as if he was a long lost friend.

Will frowned at the display. Buster’s old owner, maybe? As far as Will knew, most of the dogs he’d picked up were strays, but you never know sometimes. He watched warily as the man picked Buster up, laughing when Buster began licking his face in his excitement to greet him.

“Well, at least it looks like one of you recognize me, huh?” the man asked, grinning widely. His gaze met Will’s then, an eyebrow raised in challenge. “You don’t remember me?”

Will narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me?” Hard to believe Will could’ve met and forgotten a man like this. He couldn’t quite place the man’s accent, but it was definitely the more memorable kind. Though he was sure they'd never met before, there was something undeniably familiar about him.

It took Will a while to see the man’s flashing eyes to place that familiarity, and once it connected, he raised his eyebrows in disbelief. No way. He was imagining things. Or he really was going crazy, after years of several therapists and behavioral analysts telling him so. 

The man looked disappointed when Will didn’t answer, even after that flash of recognition, though he shrugged. “Ah well, can’t be helped. Took too long to come back here, I guess.”

“When were you even here?” Will asked, annoyed. Seriously, who was this guy? "Were you stalking me?"

“Darling, you wound me,” the man said with a roguish smile, though the effect of the words was diminished when Buster kept on licking at the corner of his lips. “I’m sure you remember me, though admittedly my appearance was very different at the time.”

“...your appearance.” Will huffed. “Okay, either explain why you’re here or I’m getting my shotgun. You’re trespassing, you know.”

“Technically, I wasn’t trespassing until you said that just now,” the man said, that ever-present grin still on his face. “And you didn't put up a ‘no trespasser’ sign, so. I’m Nigel, by the way.”

“Yeah, doesn’t ring a bell, sorry but please leave or I _will_ call the cops—” 

“What, so they can laugh at you and tell you that the wolf was just your imagination?”

“...what.” 

The man’s — Nigel’s — grin spread wider. “That woman never believed you, did she? No wolves running around in Wolf Trap, Virginia, right?”

“Once again, what?” 

Nigel laughed, sounding unaccountably fond. He turned to Buster and smiled at the dog. “Will you tell your daddy that he’s in denial? That he knows who I am but he won’t admit it, hmm?”

“Stop talking to my dog and leave him alone,” Will snapped. The rest of his pack were circling him restlessly, torn between wanting to greet Nigel and soothing Will. 

“I won’t hurt him, Will,” Nigel said, smiling and putting Buster back on the ground. Buster, the traitor, didn't move from Nigel's side. “Not after you were trying to be so helpful with me. Thank you, by the way. That’s why I came.”

Will frowned, not least because Nigel knew his name. “For what?”

“Come on, Will, I know you’re smarter than this,” Nigel said. “Though I guess it is a bit of a stretch to ask you to believe that the wolf and I are one and the same. I guess the easiest way is to show you.”

If Will’s brain hadn’t short-circuited before this, it surely would have at the sudden sight of Nigel divesting himself of his clothes until he’s down to only his boxers. Will, for his part, was stunned into silence, his body fixed in place. He’d never thought that he would be a victim of streaking, but here he was, a man in his thirties experiencing his first… whatever the fuck this was.

“What the fuck,” Will began to say before the rest of the words turned into a surprised cry when Nigel _shifted into a fucking wolf._

The wolf that Will had seen a few weeks before this, Will realized moments later. 

Those same familiar eyes stared back at him, and Will could swear that the wolf was grinning at him. That, or he was preparing to eat him, but the loll of his tongue seemed to indicate otherwise. Small mercies.

“What the fuck,” Will repeated, his legs wobbling beneath him. He had to lean against the railing of his porch to steady himself at the sight. "No fucking way."

The wolf only pranced excitedly as Buster and the rest of the pack began to chase him around the grounds, and Will was forced to wonder if he was still dreaming or if he was just in a really long, well-planned prank. 

His eyes went to the clothes Nigel had stripped himself off earlier. Still there, despite the fact that it shouldn’t be possible that the man wearing them was no longer a man. He knew what kind of crazy he was. This? This was far beyond that. There was no way Nigel could have disappeared that fast to replace himself with a _fucking wolf._ And a seemingly well-trained one at that. The wolf was still leaping happily as Will's pack chased him around the compound, his tail swishing softly to deflect the pack.

“Yeah, I’m gonna need a drink to deal with this,” Will said to no one in particular.

Predictably, the dogs only answered in barks while Nigel-the-human-who-was-also-a-wolf danced around the pack.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Will Graham is a nerd who talks to his dogs, change my mind.


End file.
